


Fluid Dynamics

by lantadyme



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:16:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lantadyme/pseuds/lantadyme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has inherited the power to become his aspect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fluid Dynamics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Latia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Latia/gifts).



When she watches him start to sublimate, the memory of being grimdark bubbles up in her mind. Of the wisps of dark magic that would waft off of her skin with each step, each movement. A fog that was intrinsically her, was infused with her senses and perception, shifting in the folds of her clothes and trailing over the bodies of the slaughtered pawns, an unnerving mystical mantle fluttering in her wake and feeling everything in a macabre sixth sense. John had gotten close back then, talking, always talking, and the magic floating off her feet had curled in dark swirls around the toes of his shoes and the shapes of his calves. She'd touched him, though she hadn't meant to. Now, watching him become the air he has inherited, she wonders if he'd known about the intimacy of the fog milling around his ankles.

John becomes a thick haze, misshapen and alien. He's blue, bright as his text in the middle, translucent along his edges as eddies of swirling color lick against the clear air around him. He moves like an amoeba, one tendril pushing out and leading the way. Parts of him curl back against the air resistance, his surface swelling to mimic a cumulus cloud. Air moving of its own accord.

He's silent until the front hits her, the lightest breeze kissing her ears, brushing her bangs back behind her ears. He's warmer than she expected, pleasant and welcome. The barometric pressure on her skin increases, a localized peck on the cheek before the deep blue of John's weird form envelops her, pressing in like an approaching storm. She holds her breath, hesitant to breathe. He's everywhere, her vision shrouded with blue.

He can't speak with no throat, no tongue, but he blows up the flesh of her arms, over the back of her neck, smooth and calming. The blue surrounding her face parts almost reluctantly, gusts of gentle wind fluttering up her sleeves and the hem of her shirt. Rose takes a breath. 

"Should I simply sit here and endure this meteorological horror?" she says around a smile, eyeing the soft edges of his blue. It ripples in a way that reminds her of a chuckle. The airy pressure against her skin increases and she wonders idly how he does that. 

"Shhhhhhhhhh," whispers in her ear, the wind brushing ever so gently. 

"Okay." She trusts him to the end of the world.

Then he closes around her again, the softest breeze kissing her eyes and her lips. Rose swallows once and then breathes in.

He fills up her lungs. She feels the air inside her throat, warm and calm. The oxygen is diluted by all of John's blue, but she holds the weak breath anyway, concentrating open-mouthed for that one moment on their intimate, unshakable closeness.

"John," she breathes, exhaling. Her hair swirls around her face and even though all she can see is blue, she knows he's laughing.


End file.
